So it begins.

Before going any further, please note that the title of this post should be read in a deep, British voice, as it was said by Gandalf to Pippin, overlooking Mordor from a balcony in the City of Gondor, on the eve of the battle of good versus evil, in Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, as adapted to film by Peter Jackson.

And there should be dramatic music.

And your eyes should be welling up with tears at the very thought of the scene.

Or maybe it's just me.

Last week, Eliot brought home from school at item of life-changing importance. Lovingly crafted of play dough, paint, and detritus, it is our first... knickknack.

So begins the homeward influx of paper maché replicas, clay sculptures, popsicle stick architecture, and stuff-glued-to-something that all parents must accept as the inevitable, tangible, dust-able manifestations of our child's artistic genius.

And let me tell you, I'm pleased as punch. I've shown the thing to everyone who has entered my apartment in the last week, other moms on the playground, and lost deliverymen wandering the halls of our building. Oh, and the grocery check out lady. (and some guy in the metro)

I'm no art critic, but I feel like this creation shows some real promise. And if I weren't already married, I'd marry it... that's how much I love it. So all you greedy grandparents, get it out of your heads now that this will somehow wind up in your Christmas stocking. It is currently residing in a place of honor, guarding my Outlander series, by Diana Gabaldon.

I, mommy, will forever treasure this, the first of many, l'escargot.
(Or, perhaps, you immediately thought of Theodin, King of Rohan, saying the same words at the beginning of the Battle for Helm's Deep, in The Two Towers. Either way, just so long as you cried a little at the memory.)

(Seriously? It's just me?)